Algunas veces sentimos que Dios esta dormido, y que no nos escucha, sin embargo el esta siempre con nosotros aunque no sea lo suficientemente visible, o no lo podemos escuchar; pero el siempre, siempre esta ahí.
With her fingertips, she traced the smooth, darkened skin under his eyes. "Eyebags," she noted. "I've been thinking," he murmured, "of you. The shadow of my thoughts is the ink which stains them." She paused and gazed right into those distant pupils, "maybe it's best for me to leave. For us to be apart. Our broken love etches too deep a scar to heal." His eyes fluttered shut, like the faint sparks of ignited newspaper clippings gradually dying out. "Nothing can remove the shadow of us," he breathed, "it's stencilled onto my heart." She let her hand fall until it hanged limp by her sides. His lips quivered for a fraction of a second and his eyelids opened again, "I'll never let go. It will always be a silhouette of us against the crumbling world." "Maybe we are the crumbled world," she whispered. One person: IS Loving. Throw in another and you'll get ARE Loving. Present Progressive. Some poems are from my other anthology, but I just categorised it here since it is part of the "same event."
A story where she always wondering about him,little did she knows, he also wondering about her.
Being a no one is not easy, But being a nonsense is so damn hard, na sa bawat araw ay hinihiling mo nalang sana na ay Hindi kanalang kabilang sa binibigyan ng araw.But what if? One day someone's will change your world?,That One day someone's will call you by your name, And THAT someone will go after you love him, WILL YOU ACCEPT HIM?That someone CALLS YOU BY YOUR NAME
This..is based on pov ticktock by Tiredgh0stPov: nerd that disappeared in ninth grade and shows up at your house senior year